Web Complex
by allihearisradiogaga
Summary: Jessica Drew, a.k.a. Spider Woman, needs a place to stay, and her teammate and ex-boyfriend Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye, happens to own an apartment building, so she moves in for a while.
1. Chapter 1

"Aw, shit," said Jessica, as she stood in the door of what was no longer her bathroom, looking into the face of a very confused middle-aged couple.

"Spider Woman?" asked the woman, edging a bit closer to her husband, her hand curling in the back of his sweater.

"Jesus Christ," she said. "Sorry, oh my God, sorry." She held up a hand, trying to explain herself, but unable to actually articulate herself. She backed into the bathroom and closed the door. She sat down on the toilet, which now held a fuzzy seat cover, and put her head in her hands. "God damn it."

She lifted her head and looked around the bathroom, noting the different shower curtain, the toilet paper rolled the other way, and the couple of toothbrushes actually in a cup and not cluttered around the rim of the sink. This wasn't her bathroom, not anymore. She stood up and slipped out through the open window onto the fire escape. From there, she leapt down to the ground, a few stories below, where she found the things that _had_ been in her apartment. The few boxes, labeled "Jessica Drew, apt. 31" were scattered in and around the green dumpster in the dirty alley.

Jess sighed and rummaged through them, found the ones with her clothes in them, and tucked them under her arms. She was thankful that she kept her more important stuff at Tony's, in a locker in the basement. She had started doing that after the first couple of times she had been evicted since joining the Avengers. A duffel bag of some mementos from her childhood with Hydra, some things from her days in England, and other personal things, in a vault under Avengers tower—just like some of the valuables of many of the Avengers. She knew that Luke Cage, at least, kept some cash stowed away for his kid's college fund.

The kink in her neck strained as she walked out of the alley, and Jessica was brought back into her actual situation. She was, technically, homeless. Again. She rummaged through one of the boxes of clothes, and brought out her phone. It was a durable flip phone, and well-suited for her lifestyle. He suit wasn't well-suited for phones, though, and it stayed behind most of the time. She held down the "end' button to turn it on, but the phone's battery was totally dry. She dropped it back into the box and looked around. She wondered who she could call on, go back to for the night at least…

Carol was out of the question. Last Jessica had heard, she was off fighting some sort of space danger, or something. They hadn't spoken in a couple of weeks, actually. Jessica made a mental note to call her, but knew that for now, she was out of the question to stay with, at least. It was then when the sky above her gave a groan, and a few drops of water splattered against her mask.

"This is exactly the kind of shit I need night now," she said, picking up her boxes from where she had placed them on the sidewalk. She scanned the buildings around her, her now former neighborhood, and knew the closest person that she could stay with. The rain opened up a bit more, a steady beat of rain down on her. She could feel the structural integrity of the boxes she held begin to go. She groaned, disgusted with her choice, and began running in the direction of the closest safe and dry place that she could think of.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Clint was awoken by a high-pitched buzzing in his ear. He sat upright on his couch, looking around his apartment in a frantic haste. It was then that he realized the noise was only the combination of a busted hearing aid and the door buzzer.

"I'm coming," he said to no one as he rose off the couch, feeling his way to the door and the buzzer in the dark, fumbling with his earpiece as he went. He couldn't get the sound to stop, even when the buzzer stopped buzzing, and he eventually just pulled the thing out of his ear. As he did, it slipped from his fingers and fell to the dark floor. "Aw, aid," he said. He heard the buzzer again, this time much more faintly, only the minutest inkling of a sound, but it was there.

Clint pushed the button and spoke into the receiver. "Uh, hello?" he asked, a finger in his ear, trying to adjust to the feeling of emptiness the lack of hearing aid now felt like.

"Clint, it's Jessica." Clint pushed his head closer to the speaker, and pressed the button again.

"I can't hear you, I lost the damn aid, just come on up." He let go of the buzzer, and after a thought, pressed it again. "If you're a bad guy, don't, actually." Then he pressed the button next to the one on the buzzer, ringing the person in. He then felt along the wall for the light switch. It wasn't long before he found it and, immediately after, the hearing aid on the ground. Under inspection, he could see that it was simply turned up to its highest setting and was almost out of batteries. He turned it down and adjusted it on his ear.

Once it was in his ear, he could hear that someone was behind him. He turned, ready to face whoever it was, whether it was a friend or a supervillain or one of those tracksuit mobsters who wouldn't leave him alone.

But he wasn't ready for Jessica Drew, his ex-girlfriend and super powered Avenger Spider Woman, standing in his doorway, soaking wet in her costume, holding two sagging cardboard boxes and a look of desperation on her face. "Clint," she said, her voice coming quietly even though Clint's hearing aid was now well-adjusted. "I need a place to stay for the night. Can I?"

Clint, still not completely awake and a little confused by the situation, just nodded, gesturing toward the interior of his apartment. Jessica gave him an uneasy smile and entered, and he closed the door behind her, wondering if his aid was buzzing or if that was just his brain, now.

_A/N: This fic is going to loosely branch off from the new Hawkeye series, obviously after #19. Other than that, there probably won't be too many similarities to the comics. Additionally, I'm not deaf, and I cannot speak from any experience other than interaction with those who are deaf when writing about Clint himself. If anything seems out of the ordinary or contrary to actual experience in regard to his hearing loss, please do let me know!_


	2. Chapter 2

Jessica sat up with a jolt. It was dark all around her, and she didn't recognize the couch she was sleeping on. She didn't recognize the clothes she was wearing. She didn't recognize the smell of burning bad coffee coming from somewhere nearby. She rose, in the plain gray t-shirt and black sweatpants which seemed familiar but she knew were not hers, and crept to the door of light on the other side of the room. It opened up into a small kitchen, which was only slightly dirty. She could get over that, though, because she wasn't known for being the cleanest, anyway.

It was when she head a _crash_ and the words "Aw, mug…" that she knew exactly where she was.

"Clint?" she called, the memories of the night before suddenly rushing back to her. No one called a reply, so she walked around the island to the coffee pot. It was almost full, but after searching around in the cabinets near it, she wasn't able to find any mugs for it. When she turned around, Clint was at the sink, washing his hands. "Clint," said Jessica again, coming up closer to him. He still didn't seem to notice her, and finally she put her hand on his shoulder.

Clint jumped, turning in the air, pinning her arm down to the counter. In response, Jessica brought her leg up and caught him in the back of the head during his downswing, knocking him to the floor. "What the hell, Clint, I told you I was there," Jessica said, bare foot placed firmly at the top of his back.

"Uncle," he said, squirming beneath her. She sighed and reached down, helping him up. It was then that she noticed that he wasn't wearing his hearing aid. She sighed and tried to reach back into her knowledge of sign language. _Good morning_, she signed, her fingers fumbling through the motions. _What – happen – you_

Clint looked at her, an eyebrow raised, and his palms open. He shrugged. That was when Jessica remembered that in her Hydra training, she had learned British Sign Language, not American Sign Language, and there was no way that Clint would have any idea what she was trying to articulate. She shook her head.

"I broke my mug," said Clint, just trying to explain things with their one-way communication. "I was getting dressed and it was on the dresser and I knocked it over. It was my only mug, since I broke the other one. It was actually Kate's mug, now that I think of it. She's going to be pissed."

Jessica almost replied with a remark, calling him stupid for just having two mugs in the first place, or for being more worried about Kate than her, who was right there in front of him and needed something to drink coffee out of. Then, she realized that this man didn't really need that right now. He only had two mugs because he only ever _needed_ two mugs, and hey, she didn't have any mugs. He was worried about Kate because Kate was his partner, of sorts, and she was around a hell of a lot more than Jessica was, even when they were dating. And what did he care whether or not she had something to drink coffee from? It was nice of him to even put her up for the night.

She said none of this, but just gave him a smile. He turned back to washing his hands, still talking. "My hearing aid's out of batteries, and I don't have any spares. I can't hear anything right now, Jessica, so sorry for jumping."

Jessica didn't say anything, just watched as Clint dried his hands and turned back to her. "I threw your clothes in the dryer last night, but the washing machines are in the basement," he said. "I'm going to get some more batteries so we can talk like civilized people instead of just attacking each other like, well, I guess like superheroes do." He picked up his keys from the counter and left through the door on the other side of the kitchen. Jessica sighed and leaned against the counter.

Clint had lost his partner, his dog, his mug, and his hearing, and she was coming to him, whining that she had lost her apartment, a place where she had stayed maybe five times. Better than that, she was ready to bitch him out at the slightest impulse after he had let her into his house, to stay with him when she needed it most.

"Oh God," she whispered to herself, realizing what was happening. "I'm—I'm a dick."

She lifted her head and saw Clint standing in front of her. "Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed, jumping a bit. "I thought you went to get batteries!" Then she realized that he couldn't hear her exclamation and she shrunk just a bit.

"I forgot my wallet," said Clint. He picked it up off of the counter, where it had been placed right next to the keys he had grabbed just a few moments before. He gave her a little grin and popped out the door once again.

Jessica sighed and looked down at herself. She was wearing Clint's clothes. She hadn't woken up in Clint's clothes since…

She shook those memories out of her head and went to the door, carefully propping it open with a magazine from the counter. She guessed it was Kate's, because it was about some celebrity gossip, and it was a couple of months old. Then, Jessica descended the stairs, working her way to the basement.

She wasn't alone in the laundry room. An older man stood at the table, folding a pile of clothes while the washing machine rattled on next to him. "G'morning," he said when he saw her enter.

"Morning," she said absentmindedly, going to the dryer. The machine was empty. She turned to the man. "Hey, were there clothes in here? I got caught in the rain last night, and—"

"That would be these," he said, holding up one of her T-shirts, which he was currently folding. It was a faded Stark Industries shirt Tony had given her a while ago. "I saw them in the dryer and figured why not, I might as well fold them, I've got nothing better to do."

"Wow," said Jessica. She moved next to him and started folding her clothes as well. "That's—really nice of you, thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said, and they continued to fold in silence for a moment. Then, he spoke again: "You're a friend of Hawguy's, right?"

"Uh, yeah," said Jessica, a little amused by the man's pronunciation of Clint's name, and a little off put by referring to him as her friend for the first time in a long while. "Yeah, I am." She put the pair of jeans on the top of the stack and picked up a sweatshirt.

"Well, you didn't hear it from me, but that fella's been going through some rough stuff lately," he said. "He's awful nice to us here, and I just—we want to make sure he is doing okay." He put down the T-shirt he was working on. "I think it's good that you're staying with him. A little more human contact and interaction'll be good for him, I think."

Jessica reached for more clothes to be folded, but there were none. Her clothes were stacked in two neat piles, the pile that the man had folded admittedly neater than hers. The man slapped his hands across each other, like he was brushing off dust. "It's real good of you," he said. He then turned and mounted the stairs, going back to his apartment.

Jessica scooped up the two stacks of clothes and started up the stairs herself. The man was _worried_ about Clint, and Jessica wasn't sure if she should be, too. He had been going through some rough stuff, but he was tough and had gone through tough stuff before. Maybe, though, he did need someone around. Maybe, she thought, as she faced the door to his apartment, that someone should be her.


	3. Chapter 3

Jessica came out of the bathroom, clean from a shower and wearing her own clothes, using a Q-tip to clean out her ear. Clint was sitting on the couch in the living room watching TV. "So you got the batteries," she said.

"Yeah, I did," said Clint. "And you got your laundry."

"Yep," said Jessica, tossing the cotton swab down into the kitchen trash on her way through. She shook out her hair. "And I was talking to this old guy down there—he was really nice."

"Most of the people here are," said Clint. Jessica plopped down on the couch next to him. She could see now that he was watching reruns of _Wheel of Fortune_ with the closed captioning on.

"And I don't want to be a burden on you," Jessica continued, talking to Clint but not really making eye contact, instead opting to watch Vanna as she tapped letters on the board. "But I do need a place to stay."

Clint didn't reply for a moment, and Jessica wondered if he hadn't heard her. The contestant on the TV spun the wheel again, and she opened her mouth to repeat herself, but Clint spoke. "Jess, I don't want you to live with me." He scratched his forehead. "I mean, I want to help you, but with our history and stuff, I don't think it would be a good idea for you to move in with me."

"That's not what I'm saying," said Jessica, taking her eyes away from the TV to look at Clint. She could see small bruises on his face, neck, and arms, and the little device nestled in his ear. The scruff on his face left her wondering if he _had_ looked at himself that much since Kate had left. "I've got nowhere to go," she continued, "and I'm going to _keep_ having nowhere to go, unless I live somewhere where people understand why I forget to pay the rent for a month or two."

Clint didn't reply. Jessica watched the muscles in his jaw tense.

"What I'm asking is, can I rent something from you?" Clint turned from the TV to her for the first time during the conversation. In the glow of the winner being shown their dream vacation, Jessica could see clearly the toll that had been taken on his face, both physically and emotionally. There were hollows under his eyes, almost the color of his old uniform, the outrageous one that the whole team had made fun of, although they remembered fondly. She remembered when she would have done anything to be able to wake up looking into that face, a face so much fresher than it was now, and yet…

"I think I have a spot for you," said Clint, finally, speaking slowly, with carefully chosen words. "A—resident—recently… passed away. And, I guess, that means his apartment is open. I never really found out about that. I mean, I spoke to his family at the funeral, but…"

Now his eyes gained a little glimmer, and Jessica shifted herself, suddenly very uncomfortable. "I'm so sorry," she said, and realized that it was an idiotic thing to say, and therefore she was an idiot for even saying it.

"There's a spot for you," said Clint, hiding behind his continued words, not letting the sadness take him over. "I'll look for some paperwork or whatever." He sighed. "I still don't know what it means to run this building, or how to do it."

"Did you get any info from the previous owner?" asked Jessica, trying to steer the conversation away from Clint's dead friend. "Like, records and stuff?" She realized that she didn't know anything about running an apartment building, either.

"The transaction wasn't really that smooth," said Clint. "Or, for that matter, a real transaction at all." He rubbed at his eyes. "I gave them money and told them I was taking it."

"Who?"

"The bros," said Clint. Jessica supposed that she was meant to know what this meant already. She supposed he didn't mean his male Avenger cohorts. "It doesn't matter. But there's a spot for you, I just have to talk with Grills's family or something." He dropped his hands into his lap. "Until then, you can stay with me, I guess. Or, I don't know."

"Thank you," said Jessica. She watched someone monumentally screw themselves over, not knowing that "_UC_ BILLE_ _LAT_US" was "duck billed platypus" on the TV. "I know we have a past, but we're adults, and we're Avengers. I just want us to be okay, especially if I'm lucky enough to live here." She gave him a smile, and put her hand on his thigh. A light squeeze to show that she was there for him.

"Jess," he said. He stopped talking for a moment. "Yeah." He smiled. "That sounds great."

Jessica smiled back at him. She felt a certain warmth about the whole situation, and relaxed into the couch a bit. "There's one thing, though," she said, tone lowering a bit to show that she was serious about this one. "I'm going to get you some new God damn mugs, because I honestly don't think either one of us is going to survive without some coffee." And they both smiled this time.


	4. Chapter 4

Spider Woman swung her leg around into the man with the ski mask, connecting with him just at the bottom of his Ribs and sending him backward into the bank counter. She whipped around and used a venom blast to the back of the neck to incapacitate another of the goons. Hawkeye jumped and slid over the counter. He met with another masked man on the other side, who was scooping bills from a safe into a duffel bag. Hawkeye punched him in the face, square on the nose.

"Don't you think," said Spider Woman, untying some hostages who were tied at the wrists to a standing table, "that this is a little small time for us?" She finished with the knot and the people who were bound there fled through the front doors of the bank. "I mean, we've fought off alien invasions, but we're still doing bank robberies? Wouldn't this be more suited for the cops?"

Hawkeye pulled the two now unconscious men from behind the counter and slumped them over the surface, then walked around through the door. He pulled them down and brought them over to the other thugs Spider Woman was tying up. "I think that this is just as important," said Hawkeye. "Protecting people, either way, isn't it?" He gathered up the guns that the robbers had held before they were disarmed and placed them in a small pile on one of the bank desks.

The bank manager came over to them, a nervous smile on his face. "Thank you," he said, turning back and forth between them, trying to face them both at once. "I'm just… thank you so much for what you've done!"

"Don't worry about it," said Hawkeye, smiling at the man and shaking his hand. He gave a firm handshake, despite the fact that the man was slack in his grip and trembling a little. "We're Avengers—we're just doing our job."

Spider Woman took his hand next, giving a slightly gentler shake. "You two can come in here anytime, I tell you, and if you want to open up accounts, I'll give you the best interest we've got!" He grinned, the corner of his mouth twitching with nerves. "It's not that much, I know, but it's all I am really authorized to do right now…"

"That won't be necessary," said Spider Woman. "Your gratitude is more than enough." She looked to Hawkeye, who gave her a smile and a shrug.

The man blubbered some more thanks, and Hawkeye and Spider Woman were able to slip out of his grasps and through the front of the bank into the sunny afternoon outside. There was a little crowd assembled on the sidewalk, waiting for them, and the police had arrived. They came to the superheroes on the steps. "We rounded them up, officers," said Hawkeye. "The weapons are put away to the side, and the perpetrators themselves are tied up near the counter. You'll see them."

"They didn't take any cash out of the premises," said Spider Woman, picking up where Hawkeye had left off. "It's all there behind the counter. The bank manager's inside, he'll show it to you."

"Thank you," said one of the officers. She nodded her cap to the two heroes. "We were tied up in a car collision a couple of blocks away and had a hard time getting here in time. You really saved the day here." She gave another smile, and led the other officers into the bank, while another pushed some of the crowd back, setting up crime scene tape.

Spider Woman and Hawkeye ducked under the tape, and they were instantly mobbed by the crowd that was amassed. They all were recanting their gratitude to the heroes for what they did, for saving them. One or two of them were crying, full of gratitude but still shaken from the experience as a hostage. "It's alright, it's going to be okay," said Spider Woman, smiling to the crowd. She didn't like it, didn't like being mobbed by people like this, but they were grateful to her, and she hid her discomfort. She wasn't used to this sort of reception; most of her work had always been covert.

Hawkeye was speaking with a crying woman, who held a small child in her arms. "Listen," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder, "I know that being a hostage isn't an ordinary thing, and it's terrifying. I know a good guy to talk to, he might be able to help you out." He felt around on his person until he found a crushed business card, which he handed to the woman. She read it as he kept speaking. "He'll help you feel safe again."

"I do feel safe already," she said, pocketing the card, "because I have people like you watching over me." She cradled her child in one arm and gave Hawkeye a large one-armed hug. His arms stuck out at first, but then wrapped around her, giving her support. When he let her go, her tears had stopped.

"Come on, Hawkeye," said Spider Woman. "Let's get out of here. I'm hungry."

"Yeah," said Hawkeye. "Sorry guys, be we have to go." He was addressing the small crowd. "If you have anything about the robbery you think needs to be said, please do stick around and talk with the police; they'll help you out."

The crowd let out a little cheer for the two of them, and they ran away from them, waving as they went. "Let's go up," said Spider Woman, and slowed so Hawkeye was in front of her, then grabbed ahold of his armpits, pulling him up into the sky. She noted that he felt a little lighter than the last time they had done this, but didn't say anything. They made their way upward, around a few buildings, and finally to the rooftop of Hawkeye's apartment building.

Clint pulled off his mask, and stuffed it into a side pocket in his quiver. He took his bow off of his back, where it was slung by his bowstring, and held it in his hands. Jessica peeled her mask from her face, pulling her hair through it, letting it hang back like a hood. "That was… nice," she said.

Clint unlocked the roof access door and opened it. "Yeah," he said. "It's good to help people. Locally."

"I mean, we help the world a lot. Like, saving the world is our job," said Jessica. "But it's been a while since… since we've done it so intimately." She followed Clint through the door and down the stairs. "Or, at least, I have."

"It lets people know that you still care." Clint smiled. A woman came down the hallway toward them, a shortish, bushy haired girl with glasses.

"Afternoon, Hawkeye," she said, nodding toward him.

"Hey, Kimberly," replied Clint, giving her a smile and a small wave. The woman passed, and Jessica watched her as she went into her room a little while down the hall.

"The people here are pretty friendly." They were going down stairs again, a flight or two, to Clint's apartment.

"They like it here," said Clint. "There's a reason I threw in my lot here."

"I mean, I know you're pretty liberal with your superhero name and everything, but what do these people think of living with an Avenger?" They had made it to Clint's apartment.

"They get a kick out of it," he said. He unlocked and opened the door. "They love it."

"Oh," said Jessica. She smiled to herself, cocking her head to the side. "Hm." She grabbed some clothes from the small stack of garments next to the couch and went to the bathroom to change, while Clint went to his bedroom, up the set of stairs.

She watched herself in the mirror as she pulled the skin-tight suit off of herself, feeling grimy from the sweat of the heist roundup. It wasn't a _hard_ job, but she had done something, she had helped people. And they had been really grateful, because the work that she and Clint had done had influenced them. They felt the effects of their work in their real lives.

With the costume off, she saw herself, just a woman, part spider, but a woman nonetheless. The people of this building knew Clint, even though he was Hawkeye. He made a connection with the people. Maybe she could make a connection with them, she thought as she dressed in civilian clothes, as Jessica Drew.


	5. Chapter 5

The door burst open, slamming against the inner wall. "Yo, Hawkeye, you here?" And then the door was slammed shut behind the woman. "Clint…"

Judging by the familiarity of the actions of the woman, Jessica figured she wasn't some sort of a random intruder. She stepped down from the upstairs part of the apartment to meet her, and Jess found herself face-to-face with Hawkeye, though not the one she knew.

"Who the fuck are you?' asked Kate, hand going to the bow on her back.

"Jesus, Kate, you scared me, just barging in here like that."

"Jessica," said Kate, realizing with whom she was speaking. They had met before, briefly, in a bit of a tense situation. "I haven't seen you since…" She paused. "What are you doing here?"

Jess could see Kate's hand go down from her bow, but she also saw that it was still tense, ready to go at the slightest provocation. "I'm staying here," said Jessica, trying to put the younger woman at ease. She didn't use her pheromones, though—she always felt dirty when she did that to someone who wasn't a "bad guy," withholding important information for a mission. "I figured that Clint would have told you…"

"Clint and I haven't been on the best of terms, lately," said Kate. "But then again, you two weren't either, which is why I am a little confused by this little situation going on here."

"We had a talk," said Jess. "We both said some things, and _did_ some things…"

"I saw what happened—"

"But now, we can be friends," said Jess, making contact with the younger girl's eyes. "And that's _all_ we are—and all we're going to be."

"Huh," said Kate.

"Besides, I'm moving into my own apartment swoon, anyway," said Jess. "There was an opening upstairs…"

"That was Grills' apartment," said Kate. "I can't believe he would rent that room to you, this soon."

"What—why?" asked Jessica.

"Wow, neither of us know anything," said Kate. Her hand, before then always ready to go to her weapon, finally relaxed. She slumped onto one of the barstools. "Grills was a resident here. Real nice guy, too. But then, there's no sign of him for a day or two. Well, his body was found on the roof. The tracksuit mafia, they killed him."

"Damn…" said Jessica. "Why?"

Kate shrugged. "To get to Clint," she said. "And I guess it worked. I mean, after what happened to him and Barney, they went on a rampage.

Jess cocked an eyebrow. "A rampage?"

"Let's just say, there isn't much left of the tracksuit mafia," said Kate. "And I don't know what's going to happen next time. I came back from California to help him out, but it was like nothing had happened when I got here. Everything I found out, I got from Barney, before he left."

"That would explain the message I got," said Jess.

"He called you?" asked Kate.

"Yeah, asking for help…" said Jessica. She leaned against the counter by the sink. "I didn't get it until a week or two ago, just when I came here. I didn't have my phone." Kate raised an eyebrow. "You've seen my suit, said Jess. "There's no room for pockets."

"Well," said Kate, "he's said nothing about it since then, and I'm a little worried about him. It's why I'm still here."

"Where've you been for the last few weeks?" asked Jessica.

"I was—taking care of some family things," replied Kate. "I came back today to see if Clint wanted Pizza Dog back. I figured it might help him out to have someone around."

Then, silence descended onto the two women. Jessica realized that she was the dog, she was the one there for Clint. At first, she felt offended, but then, she realized that it was the truth. And maybe, her being there for him was a good thing.

Kate got up and wandered over to the couch, where she plopped down. "I'd ask for food, but I know Clint doesn't really keep up on his groceries."

Jessica laughed a bit, and as she did, the door to the apartment opened again. Hawkeye wandered in, holding a handful of papers. "Oh, hi, Kate," said Clint. "Jess." He nodded to her in greeting. He held out the papers to Hawkeye, who took them to look at. "They're the papers to rent the apartment—legally. I've been working on it for a while, but I think I've got it right."

Jessica just smiled at him, sort of lopsided, her right cheek pulling back. Clint glanced to Kate, who had a grin on her face, as well. "What?" he asked.

"Clint, I have two—no, three things," said Kate. "One: you're a huge dork. Two: I'm proud of you for getting closure. And three: I've brought someone who really wants to see you."

"What?" asked Clint, but Kate was already to the door, calling down the hall.

"Erin, can you bring out Lucky?" Kate held the door to the apartment open. A door down the hall opened, and a golden dog bounded down the hall and into Clint's apartment. The dog threw itself onto Clint, knocking him to the ground and licking his face. Kate shouted a thanks down the hall and closed the door behind her. Jess watched as Clint rubbed his dog's sides, just happy to have Lucky back.

Jess's eyes strayed to the papers in her arms and realized that she wasn't going to be the dog anymore. She was going to be the neighbor, and wasn't going to have that same importance. She took a breath and looked at Clint and his dog on the floor. His smile made her heart beat just a bit faster. It was the kind of smile he needed. She needed something else. At this point, he didn't need her, not as a dog, but as a friend. If she wanted Lucky's position, that wasn't for Clint's sake, it was for her won. Her grip tightened on the wad of papers. She'd still be there for him, just like Kate was. Just upstairs.

Clint smiled to her and pointed at the dog, laughing, and Jess shot him back a smile and a thumbs-up. This gesture was as genuine as could be, but the weight in Jess's heart sank.


	6. Chapter 6

Jessica dragged the couch up the stairs behind her. Clint had tried to help her, but he had just gotten in the way while she was maneuvering it up the stairs. She had the super-strength to carry it alone, anyway. The door to her new apartment was propped open by a brick, and as she approached it, she could hear voices inside.

"I wonder if Clint's going to call Iron Man to get _her_ cable set up," said Kimberly as Jessica entered. She dragged the couch over to the living room as her neighbors watched her from the kitchen.

"If Tony were to hook up my TV," said Jessica, "I would never figure out how to use it." She gave a laugh, and the others joined in. A moment later, Clint joined them, a lamp under one arm and its shade in the other.

"Are you having fun at my expense?" asked Clint, placing the lamp on the kitchen counter.

"Of course," replied Erin, giggling. Lucky poked his head in through the door, saw Clint, and padded over to him.

"I'm not sure that I would expect anything different," said Clint, scratching behind the Pizza Dog's ears.

"What does this place need?" asked Jess, her hands resting on her hips.

"Do you have a bed?" asked Clint.

"I'm not sure what you're insinuating," said Jess, in fake reproach.

"I'm insinuating," said Clint, "that even the amazing Spider-Woman needs to sleep sometimes."

"No," gasped Erin, and she, Kimberly, and Clint collapsed into giggles.

"Okay" said Jessica. "But I have a fridge and stuff—I'm all good on appliances, and I have a couch…"

"Let's go to Ikea," said Clint. "Pick up a quick to put together bed for you."

"Some cheap bed?" asked Jessica. "Aren't we Avengers?"

"Shh…" said Clint, jerking a thumb at the two other women, faking a loud whisper. "Ix-nay on the ecret-say entity-iday."

"Whatever, Hawkguy," said Kimberly. "In that case, we'll be out of your hair. Your use for us is no more, so I figure we can enjoy our Sunday."

"I'll see you at the barbecue later, right?" asked Clint.

"Sure thing, arrow avenger," said Erin, and the two were out the door. It wasn't long before Jessica and Clint followed.

Lucky was left behind.

"If only we had Thor here," said Clint, holding the instructions upside-down. "So we can understand these ancient Norse texts."

"I'm about to shove this—SVELVIK—up someone's ass," said Jess, clutching the piece with white knuckles. "And no, not yours, so don't get hopeful."

"Hey," said Clint, attempting to put two mismatched pieces together. They sat for another moment, the only sound coming from the tinkering of the many tiny pieces of the bed.

"God damn it!" exclaimed Jessica. She threw the pieces she was holding to the ground with the other discarded pieces. "Why didn't we just buy a whole one, already built?"

"I thought that this would be easy," said Clint. He took out his phone and started scrolling through it. "Do you want me to give Avengers Tower a call, and see if Thor's around to help?"

"No," said Jessica, her face turning suddenly serious.

"No?" asked Clint. "I know that it's not a big deal, but Thor'd be pretty amused by all this, I think."

"It's not that," said Jess. "I don't want people to think I'm relying on you."

"You are relying on me," said Clint.

"I know," said Jessica. "And I hate it." She paused. "I was done with you, you know."

A stillness filled the air. "_Was_ done with me?" asked Clint, his voice low. Jessica didn't reply right away. Her eyes tracked the designs in the dresser they had kept on from the previous owner.

"You remember that night…" said Jessica, finally, her voice slow and calculated. "You had been traipsing around with that _other woman_—and I was angry. Hell, I'm still angry. I've tried to not feel sorry for myself lately, because there's no point in staying the same way, and I've been self-pitying for years now. That's not the point, though. You don't' need to know-the point is, I felt sorry for myself after you did what I did, and I hated it.

"So I left. There was stuff to do, and I did it—random Avengers stuff, I rounded up some skrulls, and I kept my mind off of it. Hell, I spent some time with Anya—but then I came back, and I had no home to go to." She shook her head with a sad smile. "I don't' know what I was thinking when I came back to you. Maybe I was comfortable, maybe I was looking for something familiar—I don't know. The point is, and maybe this was always the point: you let me back in. After I had said awful things, after I had _hit_ you—you welcomed me back. Whether out of pity or whatever—it doesn't matter. What matters is that you brought me back inside, kept me dry, gave me a place to _be_."

"Jess, I…"

"And don't think I'm trying to get back in your pants—I'm _way_ past that. I just…"

"Me too, Jess," said Clint. He adjusted his hearing aid. "I _trust_ you, Jess. And I did what I did, not you. And I can't just shut you out. You're too important to me."

"So now what?" asked Jessica, fiddling with some of the parts to the bed.

"Now?" asked Clint. "Now, we pretend we didn't have that little heart-to-heart, and we pretend it's not awkward while we finish putting together this SVELVIK before I ask you to spider strength throw it out the window."

Jessica smiled. "I'm sure the neighborhood association appreciates having a superhero living in this building."

"Tell me about it—they weren't too psyched when I took out the TV around Christmas. One stray arrow, and the whole building doesn't get to watch reruns of _Dog Cops_…" Clint glanced around. "Where is Lucky, anyway?"

"I think someone left a sandwich out in the kitchen, and he's having a hell of a time with it," said Jessica.

"Oh," said Clint. He shrugged. "What I mean to say is, they'd better be ready. Because now there are _two_ superheroes in the building. And in case you're wondering, I'm not counting Kate. She's around a lot, but she has her own place. I meant you."

"Yeah, Clint," said Jessica, rolling her eyes and picking up the instructions again. "I get it—thanks."


	7. Chapter 7

"Jessica, can I ask you a question?" asked Kate, leaning back in the folding chair on the roof of the apartment building. The sun above was sinking below the silhouettes of buildings to the west.

"Sure," said Jess. She put down the copy of the thriller novel she was reading. "What's up?"

"Why do you keep on wearing that same old spandex suit?" She sat up in her chair and turned to Jessica. "I mean, yeah, it's kick-ass and everything, but it doesn't seem all that practical."

"Yeah, but I've always had it," said Jessica. "I mean, it's kind of a whole part of my identity."

"Isn't it hard to get in and out of?" asked Kate?

"A little," said Jess. "But it offers maneuverability and stuff. I mean, it's worked for me pretty much all the time I've been fighting crime."

"Yeah," said Kate, "but remember Clint's old costume?" She let out a quick squawk of a laugh, and Jessica couldn't help but laughing as well.

"I'm not sure I could ever forget that," she said.

"How the hell did you people let him wear that thing for so long before he finally wised up and realized how dumb he looked?"

"Hey, that costume's a classic," said Jessica. "You've got to respect it."

"I've never been all that great at 'respecting my elders,'" said Kate. "And that thing was hideous."

"Are you saying my super suit is hideous?" asked Jessica. "Because we've been doing really well right here, and I'd hate to have to kick your ass."

"Please," said Kate. "I mean, yeah, you're an Avenger and all, but I'd like to see you try."

"Really?" asked Jessica, raising an eyebrow.

"Pfft," said Kate. "Why not? I'm pretty much an Avenger anyway."

"You keep telling yourself that," said Jessica.

Kate stood from her hair, and put her hands on her hips. "Fine, then," she said. "Let's do it. You and me. Wo-mano e wo-mano."

"You're kidding me, right?" asked Jessica, laughing a little. It took her a moment to realize that Kate was not kidding at all. "Holy—Kate, you know I have super powers, and have fought as an Avenger against stuff like super Skrulls, right?"

"I'm a Young Avenger," said Kate. "And who was it that helped take down the Mother and save our dimension and countless others?"

"Okay…" said Jessica, "but if it gets out of hand, we stop immediately."

"You're on," said Kate. "Just let me get my bow and arrows."

"Let's see if you make it that far," said Jessica, the glow of her venom blasts beginning to hover around her hands.

"Oh shit," said Kate, and she leapt backward, away from Jessica. Spider-Woman took a step closer, and Hawkeye fled down the stairs to, presumably, Clint's apartment, where her stuff was stashed. Jessica didn't pursue, just sat back down into her chair, laughing.

"What's all this noise?" asked Clint, coming up through the door to the roof. "What've you got Kate all in a fuss about?"

"We're just fighting," said Jessica.

"Over what?"

"Who's a better fighter," said Jessica. "That's pretty much what most fights are about, isn't it?"

"I guess so," said Clint. He reached to his ear and fiddled with his hearing aid. "I'm kind of happy that you two are getting along."

"Remember that whole thing where I just told you that we're fighting?" asked Jessica. "Or did that just slip your mind?"

"Fighting?" said Clint. "No, you're not fighting. What we used to do? That was fighting. This—this is just you two bonding. And I know that you didn't have the greatest start, so…

"Hey," said Jessica, taking a step closer. "I'm here in Hawkeye Towers, or whatever you're going to call this place…"

"I'm not putting my name on it like Tony, if that's what you're insinuating," said Clint.

"I just mean that I need to make good with the Hawkeyes if I'm going to roll with them."

Clint smiled. "If you're going to roll with us, you're going to need a new super suit."

"What?" asked Jessica, her eyebrows going up as her jaw dropped. "Are you two in cahoots?" She shook her head. "First of all, can my suit get some peace? And second," her eyes ran up and down Clint's body, "I'm pretty sure you've been wearing that same pair of jeans for a week."

"It's only because his sweatpants are in the laundry," said Kate, reappearing on the roof. She was holding a very brightly colored bow. "Also," she pulled back and released the bowstring, letting loose and arrow that Jessica was almost able to dodge in time, catching her in the stomach. It bounced off and fell to the roof. Jessica bent down and picked it up.

"What is this?" she asked. "A foam arrow?"

"It's NERF," said Kate. "Billy gave it to me—he and Teddy just thought it was a hoot." She offered up the yellow plastic bow for inspection, and held out her hand to get the arrow she had already fired back. "And by the way," she said when the arrow was back in her hand and she was reloading the toy bow, "I win."

"That's all it takes to beat the mighty Spider-Woman in a fight?" asked Clint, laughing. "I should have tried that years ago?"

Jessica almost gave him a playful punch on the arm, but restrained herself. Kate drew back on the bowstring of the toy and let the foam arrow thwack Clint in the face, knocking him over backward. "Never mind him," said Kate. "But how's about this: for losing, you have to let me take you out to get a new super suit."

"They won't have too much spandex at Macy's," said Jessica.

"Don't' you worry about that," said Kate. "I know some people. But as for the spandex? No. This isn't the 1970s, Jessica. We don't have to trade fashion for functionality."

"I'm going to pretend not to be insulted," said Jessica.

"Go," said Clint, on his feet again. "Have fun."

"And you," said Kate, turning her attention to the other Hawkeye and readying another arrow, "get down to the laundry room and take care of your clothes so that the poor girls sown the hall don't end up doing it for you again." She made like she was going to shoot him in the face again, but he ducked, and she fired a shot, hitting the center of the top of his head. "I have got to get more of these arrows," muttered Kate.

"Fine, fine, I'm going," said Clint, holding his hands up in defeat. "This isn't over, Hawkeye." Kate raised the toy bow and his disappeared down the stairs.

"Let's go," said Kate, gathering her left over arrows. She turned to see Jessica laughing on her chair. "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking of his old costume again," she said between laughs and gasps of air. "You're right—it was freaking ridiculous."


	8. Chapter 8

Jessica was clearing the dishes from her breakfast when she head the shouting a few stories down from her window. She opened it and leaned out to see Clint in an argument with a couple of men in tracksuits on the sidewalk below. She sighed and rolled her eyes. She turned off the faucet, dried her hands, and went out to back him up.

"Bro," she heard as she joined Clint, "you were the one who started this. We're going to be the bros who finish it."

"Clint," said Jessica, placing a hand on his shoulder, sauntering her way into the conversation. "Are these boys causing you any trouble?" She flashed the two mobsters a devilish grin.

"Jessica…" said Clint, finding himself unable to say anything else. His mind was flooded by her, and he found it hard to focus on anything else. She rolled her eyes at him, and he thought it was the most beautiful show of emotion he had ever seen.

Jessica turned away from the puddle that was Clint Barton to the two men in tracksuits, who were not fawning over her, thanks to the pheromones she was now letting seep from her skin. She felt slimy about it, and would kick herself later about its effects on Clint. However, she couldn't have him getting in a fight that might include guns in the middle of the street in the day, if she could help it.

"Bro…" uttered one of the tracksuits, a sloppy grin spreading across his face.

"You two aren't here to cause trouble, are you?" Jessica leaned forward slightly, allowing the men to get a good view of her cleavage in her tank top. The way they practically drooled almost made her gag.

"Not at all, bro," said the mobster. He straightened up, suddenly, realizing his posture was bad in front of this lady who was suddenly an object of his utmost desire.

"Why don't you boys do me a favor and just get out of her for a little bit," said Jessica, doing her best to make that sound like the sexiest course of action. The bros just nodded, and she marveled at how dumb men could really be.

"Bro, I want to see you again always," said one of the mobsters, and the two of them stumbled away. Jessica shut down her pheromones to the best of her ability and grabbed Clint's arm, leading him—with puppy dog eyes—up the stairs to his apartment. She plopped him on the couch and opened a window to get in some fresh air.

She leaned against his kitchen counter, and wondered if Clint might actually have some food in his fridge—but didn't check for fear of seeing something moldy—and waited for him to come to his senses. It didn't take _too_ long, but Clint realized what happened the instant Jessica's pheromones had seeped out of his system. He turned to her.

"You might have to have those chemicals tested on yourself one day," he said.

"Sadly, I'm immune," said Jessica. She shrugged. "It's not like a Taser, when you have to get tested to carry one as a policeman."

"Thanks," said Clint. He held his head in his hands before standing up. "I don't' know what I would've done to stop them."

"I'm sure you'd've figured _something_ out," said Jessica. "But what I can't figure out is why they're here at all. As I understand it, you put them off with your little rampage."

"That sounds like something Kate would say."

"Who says it isn't something she said?" She grinned, but it quickly fell. "Why," she continued, gravely, "are they still around?"

Clint shook his head, his fingers going to his ear to be sure his aid was still there and working. "I must've not scared them as much as I meant to," he said. "Also, could you speak up, a little?"

"Sorry," said Jessica. "So: what're you going to do about it?"

Clint looked down. "I don't know," he said, with a melancholy sigh. He leaned backward into the couch. "Jess—the people who live here are good people."

Jessica's mind jumped back to the last Sunday's rooftop barbecue. She had been laughing with Erin and Kimberly about something ridiculous some celebrity had done. The kids were weaving in and out between the legs of the adults, playing tag, and their parents were discussing their lives, light beer in hand, while they waited for the burgers to be done. A few guys, including Clint, were micromanaging the man at the grill, who wasn't, apparently, up to the usual standards.

Jessica knew what Clint meant when he said that they were good people. They were a community, and they came together just for the sake of being with each other.

"I first took this building from the tracksuit mafia because they wanted to kick these people out," said Clint. "And I figured that would be the end of it—I didn't' want anything else to happen. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."

"Clint," said Jessica. "No one else is going to get hurt."

"Clint turned to her. "Jess. There is no way you can promise that, and you know it." He looked away. "If we bring on a fight, someone is going to be caught in the crossfire."

Jessica's mind flitted to the apartment she now inhabited, and the untimely end of its former inhabitant. She thought of the men who had returned even after Clint had gone in and brought some sort of vengeance. She thought of the gall they must have to even show their faces here, at this building, after everything.

"We didn't start the fight," said Jess. "That's the first thing we need to remember."

"I doesn't matter who started it!" shouted Clint. "This isn't _Rambo_! Or third grade!"

Well, what I mean is that if we don't' do anything, they'll be back."

"We?"

"I live here, too," said Jessica. "We're in this together. Hell, you can call in your Hawkeye super team, too, if you feel like you want to have Kate and Barney in on this, too. But I'm a part of this fight."

"It's a fight that's going to hurt the innocent people who live here…" He sighed, and then his eyebrows furrowed. "So what the hell are we supposed to do?" asked Clint, throwing his hands into the air.

"We take the fight to them," said Jessica. "We ensure the ones in the crossfire are _their_ goons, and we use this to send a message."

Clint grinned, the expression somewhat reluctantly crossing his face. "What message is that?"

"The message you've been sending all along," said Jessica, her grin joining his. "Don't fuck with Hawkeye."


	9. Chapter 9

"What's a girl have to do to get a cup of coffee around here anymore?" asked Kate, holding a coffee pot in front of her. The pot held a little bit of coffee—by no means a full cup's worth—but there was no mug to be seen. "I swear to God, Clint, how hard is it to keep a mug together?"

"Don't say that," said Jess, walking into the apartment and pulling off her gloves. "He tried super gluing the last one he broke, and then it leaked, and he's still working on the carpet stain."

Kate shook her head and returned the pot to the coffee maker. "That man needs sippy cup," she said.

"I can't really talk," said Jessica, shoving her gloves into her back pocket. "I broke mine."

"Your mug? I thought you had super-reflexes."

"My coffee pot," said Jessica, glancing at the pot Kate had just replaced. "I was—dealing with some anger. Catharsis. Remodeling."

Kate just nodded, leaning on the counter. Jessica glanced around the room, and soon realized that something was missing from Clint's apartment.

"Where's Clint?" asked Jessica.

"Oh?" said Kate. "I honestly thought he was with you. You're Avengers and stuff."

"Yeah, I was just stopping a mugging," said Jessica. "No super-team backup needed."

"So where'd he go?" asked Kate. "I mean, I came here to meet him—he called me over."

"Clint!" called Jess again, realizing that she was probably not going to get a reply. Kate walked by her to the small staircase, where she took the stairs two at a time.

"He's not up here!" she called back to Jessica as she bounded back down the stairs.

"What do you think happened to him?" asked Jessica, leaning back against the kitchen island.

"You think something happened?" asked Kate, going to the window and looking out.

"It's Clint," said Jessica. "What do you think?"

"I guess you're right," said Kate, glancing out of the window. Something there caught her eye. "Holy shit, Jessica, look at this!"

Jessica rushed to the window, where Kate was pointing to a large truck pulling away from the curb across the street, several stories down. It was difficult to see the side of the truck, but for a seasoned Avenger like Jessica, it was an immediately recognizable logo.

"A.I.M.," muttered Jessica. She turned back from the window to the door.

"Where—what are you doing?" Kate stood facing Jessica, legs shoulder-length apart, chin high.

"I'm going after Clint," replied Jessica.

"Without me?" asked Kate. She grinned. "I don't think so."

* * *

Jessica piloted her motorcycle into the alleyway a block away from the A.I.M. warehouse, and Kate dismounted from behind her first, placing her helmet on the seat.

"God damn, I half need this visor to just keep your hair out of my face."

"I don't often have a sidekick with me," said Jessica. Kate seethed.

"Let's just find Clint," she said. "What's our access point?"

"The roof'd be too obvious," said Jessica. "We'll have to do this a little bit more—my way."

"What?"

Spider-Woman led Hawkeye around the side of the A.I.M. building, and they shimmied down an alley. "There," said Jessica, pointing at the way. Kate looked up.

"That vent's twenty feet off of the ground."

"Yeah," said Jessica, straightening her goggles. "Hold onto my waist. They put that vent up there because they didn't think anyone could get to it." She placed her fingertips on the wall and started to pull herself up it. "Are you coming?"

Kate sighed, and slung her bow over her shoulder. "This is ridiculous. If America ever saw this…"

Jessica brought them up to the vent, and lifted Kate up, pushing her into the vent, following close after. They crept down the vent just a little ways before opening another grate into a large, warehouse-like room. Kate dropped down behind some large boxes, and Jessica dropped down beside her. They peeked around the corner.

"I don't see him," said Kate, scanning the room.

"Neither do I…" said Jessica.

"Wait—that ugly bad guy, M.O.R.D.O.R., right?" Kate pointed over Jessica's shoulder to the far end of the large room.

"Holy shit," said Jessica. "That's M.O.D.O.K. Damn it—Hill's going to flip shit on this one."

"What is he supposed to be in jail or something?"

"No, he's supposed to be in a S.H.I.E.L.D. laboratory, working on new technologies," said Jessica, shaking her head. "This is such a cluster…"

"I have a feeling I'm not supposed to know that," said Kate.

"We need to get closer," said Jessica. "Whatever's going on in here, it's probably not very good."

They ducked back behind the crates again, sneaking behind them, out of the view of the A.I.M. goons that they found milling around the place. They only had to dispatch one, Spider-Woman sending a venom blast to the man's neck as Hawkeye kicked his knees out. She caught the hazmat suit henchman and laid him on the floor, gently.

"…before we can push the plan into action," said M.O.D.O.K. They had caught him at the end of some sort of explanation. The henchmen he was speaking to hurried off to do whatever it was he had ordered them to do. He turned back to the large, complex-looking machine in the center of the room, tinkering with something.

"Let's kick his butt," said Kate, starting forward. Jessica held her back.

"He's not doing anything evil yet," said Jessica. "Or even illegal. What _we're_ doing is illegal."

"This just _reeks_ of evil," said Kate.

"That's my jacket," said Jessica. She made a face, one of fake disgust at her own scent. "I was beating up a burglar last night and broke a sweat. I haven't washed it yet."

"First: gross. And second," she surveyed the room, "we need to remember why we came here in the first place."

"Where _is_ Hawkeye?" asked Jessica. Kate raised an eyebrow. "_Other_ Hawkeye," said Jessica, correcting herself.

A door opened on the other end of the warehouse lab, and in came a group of hazmat suit henchmen, along with a rather large cage, much like the kind circus animals might be transported in.

"The hell is that?" asked Kate. "It looks evil."

"You bet your ass it does," said Jessica. "But what the hell is it?" They both peered around the corner, trying to see what was going on. Even leaning out of their hiding spot, they weren't able to see past the large machine and M.O.D.O.K.'s large body into the cage.

"How's about we find out?" asked Hawkeye, readying her bow.

"We can't…" Jessica began, but she was too late. Kate had loosed the arrow, sending it straight into the path of M.O.D.O.K.'s insect-like leg. His leg-point slipped on it and, his tiny arms flailing, he fell to the ground with a _thud_. A couple of the A.I.M. henchmen rushed to help him back up, but the two superheroes were more interested in what—or rather, _who_—was in the cage.

"Holy shit," said Jessica. Kate simply nodded. Before there could be more of this conversation, the henchmen turned to face the source of the arrow that had knocked over their boss and started toward the women. As they did, Hawkeye began to fire trick arrows, catching them in nets and mini oil-slicks. Spider-Woman took a more straightforward approach, leaping at a few of the nearest henchmen. She shot venom blasts at two of the closest, shooting a two-footed kick into a third, sending him to the ground with a satisfying "_oof_."

"What the hell?" shouted M.O.D.O.K. from the floor. "Did S.H.I.E.L.D. send you?" He struggled to right himself.

"No, but it seems like they should have," said Jess, leaping over the capsized supervillain to send a venom blast to the lock of the cage. The door swung open a few inches.

M.O.D.O.K. finally propped himself upright, only to find an arrow pointed directly at his nose. He raised his hands into the air. "You don't know what you're doing!" he said.

"That's what most supervillains say, actually," said Spider-Woman as she kicked open the cage door. "You're free to go, Director Hill."

S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Maria Hill stood at the center of the cage, motionless. Then, she blinked once, and turned toward Jessica. "Target secured," she said in a slightly metallic voice. "End program."

"What's the problem?" asked Hawkeye, calling over her shoulder but not taking her eyes off of M.O.D.O.K. as she did.

"That's not Maria Hill, if _that's _what you're thinking," said M.O.D.O.K. He began to move toward Spider-Woman, but Kate gestured with her arrow to indicate that he was still under her capture.

"What's this, then?" asked Jessica, taking a step closer to the apparently fake Maria Hill, entering the cage

"It's a training dummy for new S.H.I.E.L.D. agents." M.O.D.O.K. sighed. "This is a _training exercise_."

"It's a what?"

"Jessica, we've worked together. You know I'm reformed. You know—by the way, can you get your sidekick to lower her weapon?"

"I'm nobody's sidekick," said Hawkeye. Nevertheless, she loosened the drawstring on her bow.

"This stuff is all from my time with A.I.M. I know it's for a 'legit' organization or whatever, But I figure it's only a matter of time before they piss S.H.I.E.L.D. off with some sort of extremely illegal setup, and I had everything in place here already."

"What's with the Hill-bot?" asked Jessica, poking it gingerly. It didn't react, simply staring straight ahead.

"Oh, that?" asked M.O.D.O.K., waving it away. "That's just one of many decoy robots to test new S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits."

"Okay," said Spider-Woman. "It's kind of creepy."

M.O.D.O.K. shrugged. "They've probably got one of you, somewhere, too." Jessica shivered and made a face of disgust.

"So where's the S.H.I.E.L.D. team that's supposed to be finding the robot?" asked Kate.

"_That's_ a good question," said M.O.D.O.K. "This'll go on their file, that they got outmatched by a couple of vigilantes. Nothing against you both, but I don't take it that you were looking for me. And they have some of the highest tech equipment for tracking we've been able to develop."

"Hey, yeah, where is Clint?" asked Kate. "We're looking for him. That's the whole reason we're out here, anyway."

"Who, Hawkeye?" asked M.O.D.O.K. "I haven't seen him since… Well, since that whole business with reality collapsing and the fury and everything…" He trailed off as Spider-Woman made slashing signs at her neck. "Oh, oh—that's right. _Secret_ Avengers. Sorry. But the point is," he said turning to Kate again, "I haven't seen Hawkeye, no. He wasn't a part of this operation."

"God damn it," said Kate.

"Look, M.O.D.O.K., we're sorry for busting this all up," said Spider-Woman. "We couldn't find Clint and saw the A.I.M. van—we figured he'd been taken…"

"It's fine," said M.O.D.O.K., smirking, "but the _real_ Maria Hill is going to be very unhappy that her agents were outmatched."

"I'm just glad I'm not them," said Spider-Woman.

* * *

"But honestly, where could Clint be?" asked Jessica s they stepped out of the stairwell and started toward Clint's apartment door. "I mean, he goes out to work and what else? I don't even know. Something evil is definitely afoot here."

"No I agree—did you just say 'afoot?' Who says that—but yeah, it's going to be up to use to clean everything up, as usual." Kate rolled her eyes. "It's not like I…"

She cut herself off when she saw that the door to Clint's apartment was slightly ajar, the wood around the deadbolt splintered inward. Kate looked to Jess, who nodded, and they crept forward. Kate carefully opened the door, palm flat on it, and Jess gave her another nod. The next moment, they both burst into the room, Kate with an arrow drawn, Jessica with the green glow of her venom blasts dancing around her fingers.

Looking back at them was Clint, who seemed to be okay, except for the crowd of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that was all around him. They were all frozen, staring at the two women in their immediate entrance. Clint sighed and gestured to them. "Thank God," he said. "Can you two tell them that I'm not the practice dummy they think I am?"

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents continued to look to the two superheroes in the doorway, and Kate and Jess broke out into laughter. Kate bent over, putting her hands on her knees, she was laughing so hard.

"What's so funny?" asked Clint. He took a step forward, brushing away the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who tried to approach him. "I get back from walking Lucky and they come in here, swarming me, talking about some training protocol, and—this is serious!"

Jess was able to break her laughter just long enough to nod to the agents. "Down the block," she said, "check the A.I.M. warehouse." She broke down into giggles again, and Kate had to finish for her. "You'll find Director Hill there—we did—ha!—most of the work for you."

Even in their state of laughter they were able to get out of the doorway so that the agents could file out. When they were all gone, Clint shut the door—though with the damaged doorknob and deadbolt, it wouldn't stay all the way shut—and Lucky padded up to him from the bedroom.

"Some guard dog you are," he said, ruffling the fur on his head. He turned to the two laughing women. "And where _have_ you two been all day?"


	10. Chapter 10

Jessica was late coming home, and when she went to hang her jacket on the coatrack near her door, it missed the hook altogether and fell to the floor. She left it there, and kept on walking to her couch, where she collapsed.

She'd just been out to coffee with Bobbi—she'd been in town lately, and they hadn't seen each other in a while, so they'd been catching up—when a couple of small-time thugs decided to take a diner across the street hostage. A quick-change later, and they were over there, talking the people down. Or rather, Jessica was talking them down with the help of her pheromones while Bobbi ushered the hostages out of the back door of the restaurant. They then had stayed there with the robbers, after returning the money they'd taken to the manager of the restaurant, until the police showed up to take them away.

Then, they'd been mobbed by the people they'd just saved, who had wanted to not only thank them but talk to them about their heroics. Being an Avenger gets you some fans, and for most of the people there, this was the most exciting thing that had happened to them in their entire life. One younger boy expressed that he'd wished they'd beaten up the bad guys, because that would be cooler. Bobbi had told him that was an easy way to get _yourself_ beaten up, looking for fights. The boy took it from Mockingbird that fighting was wrong and then took a picture with the two heroes before running off to his mother, who was waiting for him at the door.

He had only been the first of a long line of people, fans and grateful hostages, who had stuck around just to see them, to thank them. They hadn't gotten away from them for a couple of hours, and neither had it in their heart to turn any of the grateful people away. They were all so unremittingly thankful for being saved and for their service as superheroes that neither Jessica nor Bobbi suggested that they leave until every one of the people had departed from the scene.

Of course, at that point, the police had finally gotten ahold of them, and they were taken in to give their statements about what happened. They did this, and as with all paperwork, it took much longer than Jess would have ever seen necessary (or possible). By the time they were all finished with all of that, both of them were just _tired_ of the day. Being chipper and kind to that many people all at once was _exhausting_, since neither of them were particularly public people. Once the police were done with them, they simply went their own ways, each promising the other that they'd do this again soon, it was really fun.

Now, from her couch, Jessica realized how far she was going to have to move if she wanted to go to the bathroom, and she really had to. She also felt a gurgling in her stomach that indicated she also was very hungry, and just hadn't noticed until now. She reached up toward her kitchen and then let her arm fall to the ground. What she'd do for spider-telepathy at the current moment was a long and exhaustive list, at least until she realized that the things she'd do to not do anything were also things she'd have to do, and decided that she could just _get up_ and _go get the food herself_.

She sighed as she did, and stumbled to the kitchen. There was nothing in the fridge but a couple of beers and a half a stick of butter. She'd meant to get groceries after she met up with Bobbi, but she'd forgotten, what with everything else that went on that afternoon. She went to the cabinets instead, opening and closing a few of them before she got to the one she kept her dry foods in. There was an empty Cheerios box, which she tossed down into the recycling—W_hy did I even keep that, anyway?_ she thought—and a box of crackers that was way past its expiration date. She threw that into the trash as well, and stuck her hand up onto the shelf to feel around, see if there was anything else up there.

There was no food up there. Just some dust, and a piece of paper. Jess grasped it, realizing that it wasn't just a piece of a wrapper or something as she picked it up. Pulling it down from the shelf, she could see that it was a photo. It wasn't a printout from a computer or something; it was an actual photograph, taken with a polaroid camera. She squinted to see the people in the picture.

It contained a few different people, and Jess was surprised to see she recognized some of them. There was Erin, and Kimberly, and a few other people from the building. They were all familiar faces, but there was one whose face she didn't recognize. He was a shorter man with a rounded nose and a bit of a belly, and he was grinning with a wide set of teeth with the rest of the residents in the building.

She didn't need to rely on her old private investigating skills to realize that the man in the picture was the former resident of her apartment. He was the one who was killed, because of that damn mafia that Clint kept running into…

She put the picture down on the table and walked back to the couch, where she slumped down. She felt a wave of guilt come over her, like she was trying to squeeze into someone else's place. This wasn't her apartment, it was that man's, and she was nothing but an imposter, trying to fit the hole, trying to fit where he belonged. In that photo, he was so _happy_ to be with the other people. What did she think she was doing, trying to replace him? She hated the self-pity, but she didn't do anything to stop it from rolling over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, running her fingers through her hair, back from her hairline. She exhaled as she did, and heard a crash from the direction of Clint's apartment.

She leapt to her feet and nearly sprinted to the door in a moment of impulsive, habitual behavior. She made sure to grab her jacket on her way out of the door—it was her costume now, after all—and was pulling on the second sleeve as she came down the hall to see Clint's door burst open, whacking against the wall in the hallway. Following the door quickly was Clint himself, barely bothering to shut the door behind him. He swung it back around in a half-thought slam, and then found himself face-to-face with Jessica.

"Jesus Christ, Jess, you scared me."

"Sorry," said Jessica. She looked behind him at the door, and then back. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," said Clint. He began to push past her, but she stepped to get in his way, blocking the hall. He stepped backward, resuming his past position.

"What's going on?"

"I just need to go right now, Jess, I'll talk to you later about this…"

"I can _help_ you, whatever it is, Clint, just let me know…"

"No, God _damn_ it, let me go!" He pushed her back, this time with all of his strength. She let herself be moved, and he walked past her. After a few steps, he paused, took a breath, and looked back to her. "You know, I'm sorry, I am angry, and there's no reason for me to—just—you know, this kind of pushiness is the reason we broke up."

Jessica was taken aback before she could even muster any anger in response to that. "What—no, I…" Then, she was able to compose herself, and as he walked away, she shouted after him. "We broke up because you were fucking another woman!" He was already taking the stairs down two at a time, and even though she was shouting, there was the chance he was deliberately not hearing her. Jessica felt a tremble in her chest, followed by the warmth of anger, and for a moment, she just stood there and simmered, wondering whether or not she should kick her ex-boyfriend's ass. She had come to check on him, and he repaid her with nothing but a bad attitude.

She didn't storm after him, however, because she realized that she was still tried, and she didn't feel like picking a fight with Clint today, even if he was being an asshole. She was about to go back upstairs to her apartment to see if she could find some ramen in the back of a closet somewhere or something when she realized that Clint's door was still slightly ajar, not closed in his little tantrum. She went to close it but, her sense of curiosity getting the better of her, instead opened the door wider and stepped inside.

There was nothing to say that Clint's apartment was usually clean. In fact, it usually was quite the opposite of clean. But it was never _deliberately_ dirty. His mess was due to clothes piling up, papers in a heap, Lucky tracking in dirt, that sort of thing. There was, however, a bit of a mess on this day, with some of the pillows on the couch turned over, the coffee table knocked on its side, and something smashed against the wall, a slight dent left behind. She took a step inside, and she found that most of the anger she still felt for Clint beginning to wash away. Sure, she was still _pissed_, but something was going on here, and she realized it wasn't just at her. It was something else, and he was just taking it out on her.

She righted the coffee table and threw a couple of the cushions back onto the couch. There was a coffee mug that _had_ been on the table, and it had spilled across the rug. He was going to have to wash that, which meant finding a dry cleaner's nearby. Jess figured he didn't know where one of those was—he'd hardly have any cause to know. Not that she would know any better. Maybe Kate would. She put the mug back on the table and wiped the coffee that had gotten on her hands onto her pants. Then, she turned to the thing that had been smashed against the wall.

It was a framed photo, and someone had printed it out on fancy glossy photo paper, something she figured Clint hadn't done himself. She picked up the picture itself—the frame and glass had broken apart in collision with the wall—and took a look at it. Clint was in it, right in the middle, and the rest of the people in the picture were all residents of the building, gathered around on the rooftop, with the colors of a sunset across their faces. Lucky was there, too, by Clint's side, a goofy dog smile on his face, and with a hand on Lucky's happy dog head was the same man from the picture she had found in her cabinet upstairs. It was—_damn it, what did they say his name was?_—Grills. He was the man who had lived here.

Jess flattened out the few crumples in the photo as best as she could, and placed it on the kitchen counter. After a quick scan showing that she had done at least _most_ of the cleanup, she left the apartment, closing the door behind her. She turned to face Erin, who must have been waiting out in the hall for her.

"Oh—um, hi, Erin…"

"He just stormed out?" asked Erin, glancing over Jess's shoulder to Clint's door.

"Oh, yeah…" said Jess. "He was really upset about something, and…"

"Don't get angry with him," said Erin. She rubbed the outside of her arm with her other hand. "Today's going to be rough for him, not matter what, so the best would be—I don't know—just keep an eye on him from afar."

"What is going on?"

"It's his birthday."

"It isn't Clint's birthday," said Jessica, after a quick mental check that she wasn't _Sixteen Candles_-ing him.

"No, it's Grills's birthday." Erin sighed. "It's his birthday, and when he died, we had just begun planning a surprise party. Bring all of his friends together for a rooftop barbecue, and stuff… We were going to rent a Margarator—that's a big blender thing to make a ton of margaritas—he would've loved it."

"But he died."

"But he was _killed_." She paused. "Clint blames himself for that, you know that, and so it's just—it's tough."

"I—oh."

"So just, keep an eye. Try to be kind."

"I—I will," said Jessica. Whatever anger she still had left in her at Clint had returned to her normal level of angry at him—which was less than she'd ever admit to herself. "Thanks, Erin." Erin nodded, and started to turn away, heading back to her own apartment. "Wait." Erin turned. "Are _you_ okay?"

A grin came to Erin's face, which paired non-contrastingly with her sad eyes. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Jess. Really." She turned and walked away.

Jessica looked back at the door to Clint's apartment and sighed, feeling all of her tiredness come back to her, and started up toward her own apartment. Clint needed space, and that she could give him, but she was ready to help him, whenever he came back, because she knew what it was like to feel guilt over not being able to stop something terrible. She had been there, and he had been there for her. _So_, she thought as she finally dropped into her bed, _I'll be there for him_.

_A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated! I've not forgotten this fic, don't worry-I'm still here!_


End file.
